


Nowhere Near Perfect

by keep_waking_up



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bad Sex, Fluff, M/M, Switching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-01
Updated: 2013-12-01
Packaged: 2018-01-03 04:17:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1065661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keep_waking_up/pseuds/keep_waking_up
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean may have been a self-proclaimed ladies’ man, but Sam knew better than to think that the two of them hooking up would be anywhere near romantic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nowhere Near Perfect

Dean may have been a self-proclaimed ladies’ man, but Sam knew better than to think that the two of them hooking up would be anywhere near romantic.  Sure, they were lovers, but Sam was still Dean’s little brother.  And that meant Dean thought it was perfectly fine to burp and fart and generally act gross in Sam’s presence.  In fact, he considered it his _duty_ to disgust Sam on a regular basis.  Sam saw the smug little smiles that lit up his face whenever he’d pulled something particular nasty.  So he’d resigned himself to finding crumbs in his bed and Dean’s nasty comments about the porn on motel TVs.  

 

Still, there were moments he _definitely_ did not appreciate Dean’s perverted sense of humor.  For instance...

 

_They’d just gotten done with a pretty easy salt and burn.  Dean had driven them back to the motel at top speed, shouting along with ACDC at the top of his lungs and grinning like a misbehaving schoolboy.  Sam was pretty giddy himself.  After all, the ghost had barely touched them before he’d been able to light a match and drop it onto the already-salted skeleton._

 

_They were still a little dirty and grimy from digging up the grave and then shoveling the dirt back in again.  Streetlights flashed across Dean’s face, illuminating the dark smears of dirt hauntingly.  In the semi-darkness, Dean looked like some kind of modern avenging soldier, like more than Sam’s obnoxious older brother.  He looked like a road warrior who’d defeated the big bad and was about to have his way with his prize.  Sam was more than happy to be that prize._

 

_He let arousal at the idea wash over him, and when they got back to the motel, he nearly jumped Dean.  Dean was more than enthusiastic, grabbing his ass and plunging his tongue into Sam’s mouth.  Dean was always hot for it, but after a hunt he tended to be just a bit more aggressive, quick to wrestle Sam down on the bed and drag his jeans off.  Sam pulled Dean down on top of him and moaned appreciatively when his brother’s fingers went immediately to his hole, tight because being on a case meant no messing around._

 

_Dean didn’t mess around in bed when he was in this type of mood.  He fingered Sam perfunctorily, more interested in shoving lube into him than teasing him.  It was only a few minutes later that he was slicking up his dick and pushing in._

 

_The fucking was really good, great even.  Dean didn’t even bother with his semi-creepy dirty talk like he usually did.  Above Sam, he just grunted and gasped, hips thrusting forward in a desperate, rhythmic dance.  He pulled on Sam’s hair and bit at his neck, and Sam rocked back with eager, happy little noises spilling from his lips._

 

_Dean came first, and Sam didn’t even begrudge him that.  He reached down and gave himself a few quick jerks, and came with a loud groan all over Dean’s stomach._

 

_Dean sat back, as they both breathed heavily, catching their breath.  Of course, because it was Dean, it wasn’t long before he said, “Ew.”_

 

_Sam’s eyes fluttered open to see Dean poking at the come on his stomach.  He rolled his eyes before letting them close again.  “Dude.  Gonna happen.  Should be used to it by now.”_

 

_“Still nasty,” Dean murmured, but his voice had a speculative tone to it this time.  That should’ve told Sam that something was wrong, but he was still too drained from his fucking amazing orgasm.  He kept his eyes closed and hoped that Dean wouldn’t make too much noise when he headed to the bathroom to clean up.  Which was why he didn’t notice anything was wrong until Dean was rubbing cold, slimy come onto his face._

 

_He instantly rocketed up, flailing, and Dean burst out into loud coyote cackles, falling backwards and clutching his stomach.  Sam swiped at his face, afterglow completely ruined.  “Dean!  I can’t believe you just—I’m going to fucking kill you!”_

 

_“Worth it!” Dean gasped out.  “The fucking look on your face—”  He burst out into choked laughter again as Sam tackled him and tried to smother him with a pillow._

 

So there were definitely times Sam did _not_ appreciate Dean’s sense of humor.

 

And then there were those times when Sam just really wanted to _love_ Dean.  He didn’t want to joke or fuck or whatever.  He wanted to hold Dean and spoon and say cheesy, romantic things.  Or he wanted to, well, make love.  Which was hard to do when Dean was cracking up every three seconds.

 

_Sam let his mouth linger against Dean’s, twining their tongues together and rocking gently against Dean’s body.  He hiked one of Dean’s legs over his hip and petted his other side, rubbing at the smooth taut skin of his stomach.  His brother was so ungodly beautiful, and he was only allowed a few rare moments to appreciate it.  Sensually, he trailed his lips over Dean’s neck, sucking gently at a pulse point—_

 

_And then Dean burst out laughing._

 

_Annoyed, Sam pulled back.  “Dean!”_

 

_“Sorry, sorry!”  Dean waved a hand semi-apologetically, but there were still crinkles of laughter around his eyes.  “Sorry, I just—you’re really fucking tickling me, man.  I didn’t realize the point of this slow boning was death by tickles.”_

 

_Sam raised his eyebrows, hoping to convey just how unimpressed he was.  Dean attempted to look chastened, but Sam could still see the corners of his mouth trembling.  Sighing, he pulled both of his hands back.  “What was tickling you?”_

 

_“The hand on my stomach,” Dean said instantly, opening his eyes widely, in a pathetic mimicry of innocence.  “And the vampire action on my neck.  And, oh yeah, the whole ‘I’m gonna make love to you real gently, baby’ vibe you’ve got going on.”_

 

 _“Dean!”  Sam threw his hands up into the air.  “You said I could have_ whatever _I wanted—”_

 

 _“Yeah, and even_ I _didn’t think you were girly enough to want to ‘make love’ for your birthday.”  Grinning, Dean sprawled out over the bedding, posing provocatively.  “But, ask and ye shall receive.  Come ‘ere and make sweet, sweet love to me, Sammy—”_

 

_By that point, Sam was already storming off and into the bathroom to jerk off angrily._

 

Okay, so Dean was a mood-breaker.  He seemed to take perverse delight in pissing Sam off at the most random times.  When Sam wanted fast and hard, Dean wanted to be playful and teasing.  When Sam wanted to pound Dean fast, fuck him into submission, Dean felt like riding him until Sam cried.  If it wasn’t for the fact that it was so naturally _Dean_ , Sam would think he was doing it on purpose.

 

But even when Dean seemed to be cooperating and going with what Sam wanted, he’d end up doing the weirdest things.  Sam remembered a time when Dean had been eating him out and had called him ‘his little apple pie’.  Sam hadn’t let Dean near his ass for a good month.

 

And then there was _that_ time.

 

The _worst_ time.

 

Sam still couldn’t believe it had even happened.

 

_They’d never had sex like this._

 

 _Oh, they’d had sex plenty of times before.  In_ plenty _of different ways.  Before that night, Sam would’ve sworn that they’d done everything.  Hot sex, slow sex, playful sex, make-up sex, fighting sex...  He and Dean had run the gamut and everything had been smoldering._

 

 _But not like this.  Probably because they’d never had pure_ dirty _sex before._

 

_It was filthy in all the right ways.  Dean was still glistening with sweat from the heat outside.  Outside, it was blazing.  The sun was shining down at over a hundred degrees.  And a bit of that heat crept inside of the hotel room, and into them._

 

_Sam was so glad he’d convinced Dean to splurge on a nice hotel.  They’d scored the honeymoon suite, which Dean had snickered at, at the time.  But he wasn’t snickering now, shiny with a light layer of sweat and splayed out on satin sheets.  He looked like a fucking porn star, and Sam couldn’t get enough of him._

 

_He hauled Dean’s ass up in the air, ignoring Dean’s squeaks of surprise, and rimmed him like he was starved for it.  And maybe he was.  Dean tasted so musky, more so than usual, and Sam just wanted to devour him, eat him all up.  It didn’t take long for Dean’s thighs to tighten around his head and for long, kittenish moans to make their way out of Dean’s throat._

 

 _Finally, Sam couldn’t ignore his own cock any longer.  He surged over Dean, throwing his legs up over his shoulders, and slammed into him, pounding into him while growling in his ear.  Filth was just pouring out of him.  He’d never been one to talk dirty before, but_ god _, he considered changing that._

 

_Dean matched his every thrust, his every word.  Eventually, Sam gave up on talking and just let Dean ramble, the heated sentences driving him on._

 

_“God, Sammy!  So fucking hot, so fucking big in me.  Fucking me so good.  Never wanted cock before you, never’ll want anything else after.  Just your big dick in me... my dick in your tight little hole.”  Dean’s fingers flexed where they were locked behind Sam’s head, as if he wanted to reach down and stick his fingers right in Sam.  The thought made Sam pant and surge up harder.  “You’re fucking filthy, fucking your big brother like that.  Making me take you like this.”  He grunted as Sam gave a particularly hard thrust.  “Yeah, come on and make me take it, you little cockslut.”_

 

_Everything stopped._

 

 _For a moment Sam just stared down at Dean, into those big green eyes that looked just as surprised as Sam’s.  Then Sam lowered his gaze, making sure that, yes, that was his dick in_ Dean’s _ass, and therefore he was not the cockslut in this scenario._

 

_“Sorry?”  Dean ventured, and for once he actually sounded like he meant it.  “I didn’t mean to like… mess with the Alpha thing you had going on.  It just sorta... came out?”_

 

 _“Came out.”  Sam repeated.  He could feel his dick wilting even where it was still encased in Dean’s ass.  “It just came out.  You just, randomly, felt like calling me a cockslut.  While I was fucking_ you _.”_

 

_Dean winced.  “Is it really that big of a deal?  I mean, I’ve called you that a few times when I was fucking you—”_

 

 _“Yes, when_ you _were fucking_ me, _” Sam enunciated carefully.  “Do you see the difference?”_

 

_“No!”  Dean flailed his arms a little bit, hitting the pillows.  “C’mon Sam.  Just ‘cause I called you something that’s… okay, a little strange, doesn’t mean we have to stop!”  He wriggled his lower body, in something that was probably supposed to be seductive.  “Sammy, don’t you wanna get back to fucking my ass?”_

 

_Sam thought about it for a minute.  The sex had been good...  He tried to call back those feelings of complete and utter arousal, that had dominated everything else.  He tried.  And he failed._

 

_With a sigh, he moved back, dick only half-hard as he pulled out of Dean.  “Sorry,” he said brusquely.  “The magic’s gone.  Go jerk off or something.”_

 

_“But Sammmyyyy,” Dean whined, but it was no use.  Sam was already heading to the bathroom to take a freezing shower.  Hopefully that would help him forget about the whole thing._

 

So, a lot of times, thing’s with Dean went wrong.  But Sam couldn’t help thinking, as he laid next to his brother in the crappy little motel bed, that a lot of times things went really right.

 

Dean pressed a light kiss to his pec, peering up somewhat anxiously into Sam’s face.  “Was that what you wanted?  I know I didn’t ask, but I figured...”  His teeth tugged gently on his lower lip.  “I thought you might like it.”

 

Sam thought about the day they’d just had.  How Dean had driven all the way to Arizona so that they could see the Grand Canyon.  How he’d even bought a little disposable camera, so that they could have a few pictures to remember it by.  How he hadn’t objected when the nice couple that had taken their picture assumed they were boyfriends.  And how he’d packed a picnic and rested gently under Sam’s arm as they watched the sunset on the hood of the Impala.

 

Grinning, Sam leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of Dean’s head. “It was perfect.”

 

And sometimes, things were.


End file.
